Camping
by Zavocado
Summary: For his birthday, Burt is hellbent on a family friendly week at the lake. Kurt and Blaine have other plans. July 2011. GYOW verse.


A/N: So this one is actually nothing new-to anyone who follows me on tumblr. I think I posted this solely on my tumblr over the summer? It's been a while, so some of you might recognize it, others won't. This is a fun one, set the July after Kurt and Blaine graduate from high school. **Smut warning**.

**Camping**

Burt crawled out of their tent and zipped the flap up.

"I'll be out in just a few minutes," Carole called to him. The air mattress squeaked as she shifted around in another attempt at pulling her swimsuit on.

Instead of answering, Burt nodded and started applying sunscreen to his torso, neck, and face. He'd seen enough women try to maneuver into one-piece swimsuits to know it was a delicate and, usually, very complicated procedure. As Carole griped and flopped around in the tent, Burt glanced over at the other two set up beside them. One was for Finn and Kurt, the other set up for Blaine and Puck. None of the boys had been particularly happy when they'd set up camp five days ago and been ordered to obey Burt's sleeping arrangements.

Kurt had surprised him the most when he'd separate them into their pairs the first evening, glaring and spitting under his breath until Blaine had dragged him off to check out the lake. Of the two, Burt had fully anticipated Blaine snarling at him for the first two days, but he hadn't. Blaine had nodded, instead, as he'd tugged Kurt off towards the trail and when an hour had passed without a sign of them, Burt had followed.

Finding Blaine on his knees with Kurt pressed back against a large willow tree hadn't been remotely surprising. Neither had the groans of dismay that had followed him announcing that both of them better fasten their pants back around their hips and come eat dinner.

Every day since Burt had stumbled upon them at some new spot, with one pressed against a tree, pants undone as the other's head bobbed in front of the open flap. To say he was making it a priority to put a stop to any attempts at sexual activity was an understatement.

As Burt finished with his sunscreen, the tent next to him unzipped and Puck tumbled out, Mohawk flattened down from sleep, and a snarl on his lips.

"You're sleeping outside tonight!" he spat, aiming a hard kick at the entrance to the tent. Blaine gave a shout and something flew out of the opening as Puck started cursing and hopping around on one foot. "Damnit, Anderson! Why'd you move? I wasn't trying to kick your boney-ass knee!"

"Maybe you shouldn't be trying to kick me then, jackass!" Blaine snarled, his face ducking out of the tent opening. His hair was a tangled web of curls, eyes crusty slits. He yawned and grimaced.

"I wouldn't be if you'd stop kicking me in your sleep," Pucker counter angrily. He plopped down on the ground and started nursing his hurt toes. "God, why do I get stuck sharing with _you?"_

"Because Burt decided to suddenly reinstatement himself as–"

Blaine stopped, suddenly catching sight of Burt as he walked over.

"Morning, guys," he greeted cheerfully. Both boys glared darkly at him as Puck clambered to his feet and fixed his swim shorts more securely around his waist.

"I'm gonna take a piss," Puck grumbled as Blaine rolled out of their tent, straightened his swim shorts from yesterday, and followed after him.

Burt frowned, slightly annoyed with the pair as he headed over to Kurt and Finn's tent. Things didn't seem to be fairing much better down there.

"Get _out!"_ Kurt screeched. Someone – Finn, judging by the size – tumbled into the closed tent flap and hollered.

"I can't until you let me unzip it!" Finn shouted back. There were several moments of enraged shouts and scrambling before Finn appeared, crawling to safety as Kurt zipped the tent closed again.

"Need a hand up?" Burt offered, eyeing the tent where Kurt, still out of sight, was snarling viciously under his breath.

When Finn looked up he gave Burt such a dirty look that the older man took a step back. Finn climbed to his feet and, without a word, joining Blaine and Puck over at the clump of trees they'd designated as the "Pissing Grove".

As Blaine and Puck returned to their tent and grabbed their towels and sunscreen for their group day at the lake, Kurt climbed out of his tent and sneered at Burt.

"You're the _worst_," Kurt managed to say before he too disappeared towards the trees. Finn scrambled away quickly at the sight of Kurt approaching, tripping and flailing as he refastened his shorts.

"Having a rough birthday, dear?"

Carole pressed a kiss to his cheek as the four boys all disappeared along the trail to the lake.

"Nobody even wished me a happy birthday," Burt pouted.

"I did," Carole reminded him. "And you've been interrupting Kurt and Blaine all week, Burt. It was going to come back and bite you in the ass eventually."

"But–"

"Burt, you and I both know we've been far too lenient with them since Forestwood. After everything that's happened this past year, trying to enforce any sort of distance or open door policy now or once we get home is never going to work."

"But we're _camping_," Burt insisted, just as he had their first night at the site. He'd had to get up and untangle Blaine and Kurt from each other several times until the four of them had taken the hint that the sleeping arrangements weren't a joke. "And it's _my_ birthday trip," he added petulantly. "I don't want to listen to them half the night, okay?"

"Hence why they've been sneaking off so we don't have to," Carole countered sternly. "Honey, you're being – and I mean this is the nicest way possible – a huge cockblock."

Burt blanched at the term and stared at her in disbelief.

"Their words, not mine," Carole said casually. She draped her beach towel around her shoulders, took the sunscreen from his fist, and headed off after the boys.

Annoyed and feeling like a child who'd just been reprimanded, Burt followed after her. The walk to the lake was just under a mile, but by the time they got there, all four of the boys were in the water, splashing around and perked up.

"I'm sure you'll get your birthday wishes now," Carole told him, eyeing the beaming group of boys in the water. "Get my back, please."

Burt did as requested, running the lotion into her skin as his eyes skimmed the surface of the lake. Puck and Finn were beginning what looked like a good dunking match, but Kurt and Blaine–

"Boys! Stay where we can see you!" Burt hollered as Carole poured more sunscreen onto her shoulder.

"Oh, get stuffed!" Blaine growled, splashing angrily as he and Kurt swam back out from under the pier.

Kurt gave Burt a fierce glare to match Blaine's words as they both waded out in the water for a bit and then returned to the beach, pointedly setting up their towels as far away as possible. Carole started laughing as they set up their umbrella to block them from Burt's view.

"It's not funny," Burt hissed angrily. He watched Kurt adjust the umbrella until it was laying in the sand, blocking everything but their calves and feet from view.

"Bo–"

"Oh, leave them be for a bit, Burt," Carole chided, swatting him on the arm. "There's only so much they can do on the beach and I seriously doubt Kurt is up for getting sand everywhere, okay?"

"But they're–"

"They're fine," she assured him. "Help me with my legs?"

Burt finally turned away from the big purple umbrella and helped Carole finish up. They spent their first hour in the water, laughing at Finn and Puck. Burt kept trying to sneak over far enough to make sure Blaine and Kurt were still clothed, but with Carole right by his side glaring at him, he eventually gave up. By the time they returned to shore, Burt couldn't stop himself any longer. If they were doing what they'd been desperately trying to do all week, then someone could easily see them. There were a dozen over families in perfect sight of them down the beach and Burt really didn't want to have to explain why his son and his son's boyfriend were naked and groping each other to the pair of toddlers building a sandcastle.

He approached slowly, preparing himself to cringe at anything he didn't want to hear, but there was only silence.

"Boys?"

A soft snore greeted his question. Burt ducked around the umbrella and found Blaine and Kurt cuddled up together, Blaine resting on his back with Kurt draped across him. If this had been their first day on the beach, Burt would have cringed and quickly grabbed something to cover Kurt's skin before he fried, but Kurt was pleasantly freckled after four days of sunbathing.

After several minutes of watching them sleep, Burt returned to his own towel with Carole.

"I told you they're fine," Carole said instead of asking what he'd found. "They're both responsible young men, Burt. And they're very safe with how and when they're intimate."

"I know that," Burt reasoned, shifting uncomfortably as he eyed the toddlers' father approaching their little castle. He watched the man glance over at Blaine and Kurt's spot, before he looked away. "It's not them that I don't trust here. It's–"

"Everyone else, I know," Carole agreed, watching as the same man started lathering sunscreen over his little girls and then carried them to the water for splash time. "We're right here, though, Burt. Only a few tents away and there's nobody else at the sites around us."

"I'm still not letting them share," Burt said flatly. "Even if it ruins the entire trip. They'll be at it all night and then they'll sleep all day just like they have all summer, Carole, and I won't allow–"

She silenced him with a firm kiss, effectively shutting him up.

* * *

"Is he gone?" Kurt whispered. Blaine whimpered as the warm air soaked into his skin and Kurt wiggled off of him.

"Yeah, but they aren't," Blaine grumbled, rolling with Kurt so that they were face to face. He nodded over Kurt's shoulder as a pair of delighted squeals echoed up the beach. "Neither is this permanent boner I've been sporting all week. I _told_ you to pick the other side. There's only the pier over there and nobody's on it–"

"But there was for the last four days," Kurt snapped moodily. "How was I supposed to know that weird old guy didn't fish on Mondays?"

Blaine snuggled closer and burrowed his face against Kurt's throat. "This is so unfair. I just want to come in your ass. Why is that such a bad thing?" he whined.

Kurt shushed him and stroked his back for several minutes before wiggling away and sitting up. "Let's try the water again," he decided, peering around the umbrella. "Carole's got my dad distracted by the looks of it. I knew she'd be on our side."

"Oh, god," Blaine mumbled, sitting up and eyeing his shorts. "I'm so glad the netting in these is tight or I'd be tenting these shorts so hard all the seams would burst."

Kurt yanked him to his feet, and, as inconspicuously as they could, they trudged towards the water.

"Just float for a bit, okay?" Kurt encouraged. "Then we can just drift–"

"Cannonball!"

With a roar, Puck flung himself off the pier and thundered down right between them.

Coughing and spluttering, Blaine found himself in a tight headlock when Puck surfaced, one arm around his chest and the other circling his neck.

"I'm gonna dunk you, Short Fry," Puck hollered.

"Don't make me rub my boner on you!" Blaine growled, twisting in Puck's grip as Kurt floated off towards the little alcove under the pier. They'd discovered it yesterday when their water wrestling match had turned into a hidden boner fight under the water. Unfortunately, not even two minutes had passed before Burt was hollering for all of them to come dry off for dinner.

"_Ugh!_" Puck shouted, immediately letting Blaine go. "God, just get some already so we can have _fun!"_

"What do you think I've been trying to do for the past week?" Blaine snapped. Kurt had hidden himself completely now and Blaine felt his cock throb against his hip at the thought of what Kurt's hands might be doing while he waited.

"Clearly you aren't trying hard enough–"

"Keep them distracted, would you?" he muttered before sending a huge wave of water at Puck. "And stay out from under the pier," he added as he let himself drift away with the current.

It took several minutes of looking casual and watching the beach before Blaine found himself under the little wooden dock.

"Finally," Kurt breathed. A second later, Blaine was pulled flush against him, lips being pried apart as Kurt's legs yanked him in and held him close. "God, I wish you could fuck me right now."

Blaine groaned and pressed Kurt back against the same wooden beam he had yesterday. It was at the edge of the shore, half buried in the rock and quite sturdy. It wasn't as stable as a chalkboard or any of the walls they'd held each other against in recent weeks, but it was good enough under their current lockdown circumstances.

"Wish I could, too," he agreed as Kurt's hands dipped into his shorts and grabbed his ass. He bucked roughly at the squeeze and bit down on Kurt's lower lip.

Kurt hissed and pulled back, frowning at him.

"Sorry," Blaine muttered, wiping the little dot of blood off his lip and washing it off in the water. "I'm more than a little desperate right now so–"

Kurt nodded and tugged him back in for a greedy, openmouthed kiss. They kissed roughly for several minutes, gasping and whining softly as the current rocked their hips together.

"Can I just say that I love your freckles?" Blaine muttered, pulling back to suck on Kurt's salty neck. "They're so fucking cute, Kurt."

"Oh, my god, they're hideous–"

"Are not," Blaine insisted, pausing to suck at a particularly dark one under Kurt's earlobe. A heated moan answered the lingering tug of his lips. "And they're _everywhere,"_ he breathed, greedily eyeing the splattered little golden-brown dots lining Kurt's cheeks, chin, neck, and shoulders. He whimpered and latched onto a little patch on Kurt's collarbone. "I bet if you suntanned naked you'd even have them on your _dick_."

Blaine panted and groaned, surging back in for a fierce kiss, only for someone to clear their throat behind them.

"Guys, it's time to head back," Burt said simply. "Shorts up if they aren't already. And they better be."

They both groaned in misery and sunk in closer as Burt floated off for shore.

"I think I might actually hate your dad," Blaine muttered seriously against Kurt's shoulder. "Like, plotting-his-unfortunate-disappearance hate."

"Only his disappearance? I've been plotting his murder in my sleep for the past two nights," Kurt told him, teeth gritted and upper body tense. "Fuck, I just want to come already."

Blaine nodded weakly against Kurt's shoulder, gave the damp skin a soft kiss, and started heading back to shore. Puck was on him immediately, demanding to know if he was finally going to have a night of kick-free sleep.

"No," Blaine said bitterly, eyeing Burt's back as the older man led them towards their camp site. "Cockblocked again. Not that there's a whole lot we can do in the water, but–"

"I'll get it for you then," Puck decided bluntly. "Finn's a tent hog, but my boys needs a good fuck so–"

Before Blaine could ask, Puck had hurried forward and pulled Finn aside. Carole and Kurt caught up with Blaine a few minutes later.

"They're up to no good, I'm guessing," Carole observed, watching Puck and Finn bicker under their breaths as the trail opened up onto the campsite.

Blaine nodded, but gave no explanation. Finn and Puck spent the rest of the afternoon huddled together, drawing diagrams in the dirt and quickly erasing them with their sneakers if anyone came too close. Blaine kept his distance, instead sitting by the campfire while Burt cooked and glaring at the older man. He could feel his left eye starting to twitch with how tense and irritable he was. Kurt sat by for a bit, rubbing his arm and muttering soothingly to him. There had only been two times that he and Kurt had gone longer without sex, but the first had been filled with injuries and a long stay at the hospital and then dozens of appointments to fill the days. The second had been self-imposed that past spring, more about Blaine's mental well-being and revisiting a part of their relationship they'd missed out on. This time was different. After regularly having sex almost every day, Burt had stomped in and decided to assert his authority as Kurt's father. Blaine despised every bit of the man right then, straight down to his worn, leather sandals.

"Sausage, Blaine?"

"I'd rather suck on Kurt's, thanks," he quipped before he could stop himself.

Burt glowered at him and aimed a threatening finger in his direction as he looked around the campsite. Blaine understood those looks, too, but worrying was pointless. Nobody was anywhere near their lot. "How many times–"

"Dad, shush," Kurt cut in, dropping down at his father's side and taking the offered plate. "It looks delicious. Sit and eat. I'll finish up, okay? It is your birthday after all."

At the mention of his birthday, Burt deflated and sat back as Kurt finished serving out the rest of the fat sausages and steamed vegetables. Blaine couldn't eat when Puck passed him the last plate. Just watching Kurt handle the sausages had him hard in his pants. It didn't help that Kurt plopped down beside him, speared his own sausage on his fork, and raised it to his lips. The teasing look Kurt shot him as he fitted his lips around and down half the length of it wasn't lost on Blaine.

"I'm gonna go piss," he said, abruptly hopping to his feet and jamming his fists into his shorts to grasp his boner and keep it from popping out.

Blaine stumbled off to the trees and ducked behind the first one. He eased his hand into his shorts and shifted his hard-on until it was snug under the band. A small, pitiful whimper fell from his lips as he leaned back against the tree and stared up at the darkening sky. There were still four more days and then the long drive back to Lima before he might stand a reasonable chance of getting Kurt alone and naked. By then his dick would already have exploded and he'd be heading to a hospital instead of prepping his boyfriend's gorgeous ass.

"If you're gonna get off here instead of in Hummel's ass, you better make it quick," Puck said, appearing around the trees and unzipping. Blaine groaned and buried his face in his arms as he listened to the chirping of crickets and the splash of piss hitting the dirt.

"I just want to feel his ass around me, why is this so hard?" Blaine complained.

"Because if it wasn't you'd never get it in," Puck offered. He shook and zipped back up, glancing over his shoulder and then back to Blaine. "Tonight. Twenty after midnight, Finn's gonna switch with you. Be quiet, be quick. Kurt doesn't know unless Finn's found a second to tell him."

"What–"

"Just bros helping bros," Puck said with a shrug and a huge grin. He winked, patted Blaine on the ass, and hurried off.

Blaine didn't have much time to think about it when he returned to eat. He managed a few bites, but couldn't stomach anymore. His body had more important things on its mind than whether or not it was getting the proper amount of nutrition. After dinner, they celebrated Burt's 39th birthday with a little candle cupcake Carole pulled out of nowhere and told scary stories until Kurt dropped off to sleep, spilling his juice all over the fire.

By the time Blaine was snuggled down in his sleeping bag, he could hear Puck's pretend snoring beside him and Burt checking on Finn and Kurt in the tent a few yards away.

"Sleep well, boys. We're going out on the boat early tomorrow," he said, followed by the zipper whipping closed. Soon enough, Burt appeared at theirs, but Blaine faked sleep that was easily masked by Puck's overpowering snores. He glanced at his phone after Burt left, checking the time and biting his lip. Another forty minutes and he might be naked and pressed against Kurt again after a very long week of abstinence.

"Shit," he breathed, bracing his left hand against the air mattress and easing the other into his bag to fish out the bottle of lube he'd brought along.

"Christ, Anderson," Puck groaned rolling over and smacking him with his pillow. "Keep it in your pants for a little while longer."

"I can't," Blaine complained, burying his face against his pillow and trying not to hump the air mattress. The last thing he needed was the squeaking to reach Burt's ears. There was already going to be too much risk of that once he was alone with Kurt in half an hour.

Puck hit him with his pillow again before rolling back over and dozing up. Blaine laid there as quietly and stiffly as he could, sleeping bag unzipped and hard cock tenting his shorts. His skin was already damp with sweat, his breath coming fast as he counted down the minutes until he could make the five yard dash to Kurt's tent.

At a quarter past, and with Burt's snores starting to rumble over from the tent to his left, Blaine rolled out of his sleeping bag and slowly unzipped the front flap. When Burt's snores continued, Blaine clambered out quickly and quietly, leaving it open for when Finn took his place. He stumbled the few yards away from his tent to Kurt's, Burt's snores growing a little fainter, as he patted his palm against the opening on Kurt and Finn's tent.

"Finn," he hissed, "it's Blaine, I'm–"

The front flap was unzipped so fast Blaine fell back on his ass. Finn tumbled out, elbowing him in the stomach accidentally as he scrambled to get out of the way.

"Just– be quiet until I'm asleep," Finn begged as he crawled towards the middle tent. "Or, like–"

"Shut up, there's ear plugs in my bag, all right?" Blaine snapped.

They both sucked in a huge breath as Burt's snores paused, but a few seconds later they began again, softer, but still steady.

"Night," Finn whispered, hopping through the open tent flap where Puck was snoring and zipping it up.

Blaine quickly did the same, fumbling his way into Kurt's tent and closing the opening. He glanced at Finn's empty sleeping bag and then towards Kurt's side. In the dim moonlight that filtered through the tent canvas, Blaine could just make out Kurt's body, shirtless and pale where he'd shoved the sleeping bag down to his hips.

"Kurt?" he murmured.

When he got no answer, Blaine unzipped Kurt's sleeping bag down to his ankles, set his bottle of lube down on the air mattress beside them, and crawled in with Kurt. A grumbled groan greeted him and Kurt shifted onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow.

"Go 'way, Finn," Kurt mumbled. "Sleepin'."

Blaine grinned, and raised himself up above Kurt, eyeing his muscled back and broad shoulders. Just the sight of so much skin, skin that had been on display and out of his reach for five straight days, made him feel light-headed.

"Kurt," he repeated softly, lowering himself down like he was doing a push-up. He sucked softly on the knot of bone at the base of Kurt's neck. "Up and at it, soldier. It's time to salute with your boyfriend."

"Hmm?"

Blaine eased Kurt's shorts down the swell of his ass, dropping himself down to his forearms as his lips skimmed the salty, soft muscles over Kurt's upper back.

"Oh my god, Finn, what the hell are– _mmph!"_

Blaine clamped his hand tightly over Kurt's mouth, holding him down with his body weight as the air mattress squeaked and groaned.

"Shh, Kurt, baby, it's me," he whispered. Breathing shallowly, Blaine listened for a few seconds, but Burt's snores were still audible.

Kurt relaxed under him, twisting his neck until he could see Blaine. "I was about to kick your ass. I thought you were–"

Blaine silenced him again, but this time with a fierce, hungry kiss. He grappled with the tie on his shorts, easing them down over his erection until he was pressed against the swell of Kurt's ass. They both groaned deeply at the contact.

"Please, tell me you have–"

"N- next to us," Blaine stammered, too focused on rolling his hips to grab the bottle. Kurt's hand fumbled around until he found it as Blaine pressed his lips against Kurt's warm skin and groaned against his shoulder. "Fuck, hurry. I need to feel you so bad, Kurt."

Kurt whimpered, pressing his face into the pillow as he arched up and pushed his shorts down further. A few seconds later, his hand brushed Blaine's cock, pushing it aside so that his fingers come start stretching his ass open. They rutted stiffly against each other, the air mattress squeaking and shifting over their weight. Mouth skimming over Kurt's shoulders and back, Blaine listened to the ragged little huffs of air Kurt let out as he started to push one finger in.

"Fuck, are you tight for me?" Blaine breathed, his hips stuttering against Kurt's lower back. "You're always so tight for me."

"_Blaine_," Kurt hissed, the word dissolving into a whimper that choked off into a gasp as Blaine took hold of his right hand and pressed a second slick finger in. "God, I'm going come before you're even inside me."

"I bet I can make you come again if you do," Blaine murmured, sliding down Kurt's back and leaving a damp trail of kisses in his wake. As his lips reached Kurt's lower back, he dipped his tongue into the little indents over his ass, then dragged his tongue down to tangle around Kurt's pinkie. "Shit, I wish you could see yourself. Stretching this beautiful ass open for my cock."

"Just–" Kurt groaned, worked the two fingers inside of himself a little more and then slid them out with a hiss. "In," he demanded. "Please."

Kurt's hand fumbled around until Blaine pushed his cock through it, letting Kurt quickly slick him up before he pressed Kurt's hands down against the air mattress with one hand, and lined himself up with the other.

"Blaine, come on," Kurt snarled, his voice catching and morphing into a loud yelp as Blaine stopped massaging his hole with the head of his cock and began sinking into him. It was only when he was a few inches in that Blaine realized Kurt felt tighter than he ever had before, that in their desperation to physically connect Kurt hadn't stretched himself as much as they normally did. "Shit, give me all of you," Kurt panted, his hands twisting under Blaine's grip.

Blaine eased the rest of his cock in more gently until his hips pressed against Kurt's ass. A deep groan lodged itself in his throat as Kurt clenched and pulsed around him. The heat all around his cock and his body was stifling, one exquisite, the other parching his throat until he rasped out a pathetic little whine against the damp hair on the back of Kurt's neck.

"Fuck me," Kurt whispered.

Limbs shaky, Blaine raised himself back up, dropping his chin to his chest so that he could watch his hips rock against Kurt's ass. He started slower than he would have liked, but without enough stretching Kurt could easily spend most of tomorrow limping around the campsite. If he started too hard, it would only heightened that possibility. Kurt moaned softly under him as Blaine eased his hips back further and further, finally arching back until on the head of his cock was stretching him open.

"You good?" Blaine murmured, dropping himself down and nuzzling along the smooth arch of tendons where his neck curved out to the muscles over his collarbone.

Kurt hummed in contentment underneath him, his cheek pressed against his pillow as Blaine dropped down on his forearms. Mouth open against Kurt's neck, Blaine rocked his hips back until the tension in his lower back was wound tight, and then jerked forward. Kurt gasped, one hand reaching around to clamp onto one of Blaine's ass cheeks. The air mattress squeaked loudly in protest as Blaine rolled his hips roughly, thrusting hard as Kurt relaxed under him, moaning softly into his pillow.

"Shh," Blaine panted, bucking forward and burying himself. He bit down on Kurt's shoulder sharply, eliciting another loud gasp from his boyfriend. He paused then, wiping the sweat from his brow and sucking over the little teeth marks he'd just left. "Sorry, we're being too l–"

The sharp whiz of a zipper opening echoed over from one of the other tents. Kurt yanked Blaine down on top of him by the ass, clamping a hand over his mouth as Blaine did the same to Kurt. They both whimpered as Blaine's hips shifted, the angle dragging his cock along Kurt's prostate as someone grumbled and climbed out of a tent. The soft footfalls disappeared towards the trees. Someone was up to use the bathroom.

Blaine tugged his face away from Kurt's sweaty palm, pressing one hand into the air mattress as he started moving again. Kurt groaned against the hand still over his mouth and Blaine kissed his neck softly.

"Shh, let me fuck you like you've been wanting, baby," Blaine whispered. "I know how much you love the risk of getting caught. Makes you so hard for me."

Kurt bit down on one of Blaine's fingers to keep his moan in check as Blaine started thrusting again, pressing in as deeply as he could as Kurt arched forward to give him the perfect angle. All summer they'd been exploring how to please each other more, trying different positions and shifting angles around until they were both panting so harshly their throats dried out and they had to stop. One of Kurt's favorites had slowly become anything that involved Blaine taking him from behind, and Blaine had figured out why only a few weeks ago when they'd stumbled their way into Kurt's first gasping prostate orgasm.

He kept his hips straight as Kurt arched away from him, driving down and forward at a slow, but hard pace until he felt Kurt's body tense and clench his cock tightly. Kurt whined against his hand and Blaine pulled his face back until his sweaty hair was resting against his shoulder. He nuzzled into the crook of Kurt's neck again as he rocked his hips forward again.

A soft gasp, muffled by his palm, and then Kurt sucked gently on the finger he'd bitten earlier. Blaine licked over the taut tendons of his neck, catching Kurt's wide eyes in the dim moonlight. It was a look Blaine had learned to recognize, one that said without words what Kurt's body was strung up so tight for, desperately waiting for Blaine to give him.

With a shuddering breath, Blaine fixed his hand more firmly over Kurt's mouth, yanking his head back until Kurt groaned softly. He buried his own face against Kurt's neck, his right hand pressed down onto the air mattress as he let the tension in his lower back drive his rhythm, rocking fiercely and roughly. Kurt panted loudly against his palm, his hips slamming down into the air mattress as Blaine let himself go, let himself fuck until–

"Blaine Xavier, you better get back into your own tent right now!"

He stuttered to a halt, Kurt growling angrily under him as Burt smacked the top of the tent. Before Blaine could catch his breath, Kurt ripped Blaine's hand away from his lips and snarled, "The only way Blaine is leaving this tent, Dad, is if you come in here and pull his naked, sweaty body out!" After a few deep, heavy breaths, Kurt added, "And I warn you, yanking either of us anywhere right now would only result in some very awkward injuries!"

"I– Kurt– y- you're both grounded!"

Burt's footsteps stumbled away and a few seconds later Blaine heard Carole start laughing loudly.

"I'm close," Kurt muttered after a moment. "Please, just–"

Without another word, Blaine started jerking his hips again, letting Kurt guide his hand to his cock instead of over his mouth. It was only when Kurt started to come around him, his loud moans echoing around their little campsite that Blaine realized why he'd changed his hand's location. Blaine thrust erratically after that, still stroking Kurt's throbbing erection where it was pinned under him. As Kurt started shouting out, not even close to coming over his fist, but more to annoy his father, Blaine snorted and buried his face against Kurt's shoulder, dropping down and knocking them both into the air mattress.

"Blaine," Kurt hissed.

"Oh my god, that sounds nothing like your sex noises," Blaine giggled, his entire body shaking as he laughed against Kurt. After a few more soft laughs, he raised himself back up, grasping Kurt tightly and angled his thrusts again. Kurt's neck arched back as he groaned deeply, a real, pleased sound that definitely reached Burt and Carole's tent. "There," he murmured, groaning himself as Kurt tightened around him. "That's much better."

He thrust frantically after that, Kurt half spent and panting under him, as his stomach tightened and his balls throbbed for release. As Kurt gave a shout and spilled over his fist, Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and slammed forward once more, cock twitching as he came inside Kurt.

As Blaine sunk down against Kurt's sweaty back a loud wolf whistle from Puck echoed around their little lot.

"Get it, boys!"

"You're grounded, too, Puckerman!" Burt hollered. "And you, Finn! All four of you are grounded!"

"You can't ground me!" Puck hollered back. "I'm not your–"

"You're grounded regardless!"

"What did I do?" Finn demanded.

"There's a reason Blaine's in that tent and you aren't, Finn, and–"

"Burt," Carole snapped, "shut up and go to sleep."

There was grumbling from the two tents next to theirs as Kurt and Blaine giggled and snuggled up tightly.

"We're probably going to come home to padlocks installed on our bedroom doors," Blaine mumbled as Kurt kissed his cheek and pressed more tightly into his embrace.

"You're still pretty handy at picking locks, though, right?"

"If it means I get to do this with you," Blaine said sleepily," then yes. Absolutely."


End file.
